


Silent Night

by tjnstlouismo



Category: Starfighter (Comic)
Genre: Angst, Bad Parenting, Comfort, Homophobic Language, Hurt, M/M, Sexual Content, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-12
Updated: 2012-12-12
Packaged: 2017-11-20 22:50:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/590529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tjnstlouismo/pseuds/tjnstlouismo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Abel's first Christmas in space. </p><p>Everything belongs to Hamlet Machine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Silent Night

**Author's Note:**

> No changes, just a move to this site.

In his memories of Christmas he was Ethan. Abel didn't exist in his thoughts back to Christmas mornings past. Ethan didn't wake up on Christmas morning with Cain's demanding cock up his ass, making him forget he ever had any other life before Cain's mouth and Cain's hands and Cain's cock.

But laying warm and soft in Cain's arms afterwards, he remembered Ethan and the Christmas before when his mother handed him a small gift behind his father's back, so that his father wouldn't know she was disobeying his demand that Ethan be shunned for going against his wishes. His mother smiled up at him and he remembered thinking, when did Mother get so small? Somewhere in the last few weeks of the arguing, the demanding, the vicious name calling and then the silence, Mother had grown smaller than he. Now he kissed the top of her blond head and murmured how sorry he was. "No, Ethan, don't be sorry, I'm proud of you. I am." and she smiled up at him with her golden smile, blue eyes flashing her love, glittery with tears.

He could tell from Cain's relaxed breathing that he had nodded off; Abel drew the coverlet over the both of them, the air beginning to chill. He lowered his head to Cain's chest and listened to the familiar pumping of his lover's heartbeat, glad for the rhythm, glad for the quiet. His lover. Cain would sneer at him for that if he ever heard Abel refer to him that way. He'd make sure that Abel regretted saying it, so he kept it to himself, his secret.

Christmas Eve at home, before the last one, had always been full of ritual and expectation. A roast beef and Yorkshire pudding dinner populated by all the political allies that owed his father favors; who attended to pay him homage in return. Afterwards, there was the lighting of the Christmas tree, a massive evergreen, cut down, drug to the house and put up in the front room by people who probably couldn't afford to spend on their whole Christmas what his father did just for one or two of the Waterford crystal or Radko blown glass ornaments that covered the tree. Ethan was always amazed at the magic when his father flipped the switch for the first time that season and the room heated by a few degrees just from the glow of the twinkling lights covering the twelve foot tree. His father beamed as his toasted his guests wishing them the happiness and good cheer of the season, and then as tradition dictated, to the flashing cameras, kissed Ethan's mother under the mistletoe. All of it, especially their show of family unity and affection, was a presentation for the voters. Father and Mother beaming down at his beautiful blond blue eyed sister and Ethan, the son in short pants, his blond hair plastered down. The next morning, another Christmas tradition, his father forced him to hand each servant their meager Christmas bonus and wish them a Happy Christmas. He hated doing it because the servants spent their Christmas morning not with their loved ones but preparing for the Senator's annual Christmas brunch.

Before the guests would arrive, Mother and Father would hand Ethan and his sister their gifts and wait for the expected gratitude. Usually Ethan was given necessities; underwear, socks, pajamas and a new coat or suit. Books, and as he got older, stocks and bonds. Never toys. Ethan didn't remember ever getting a truck or a building set, nothing like the other boys in his class. One year he was given a bike, and spent the rest of the day having his picture taken for a magazine piece on Christmas with the Senator, with his father pretending to teach him to ride. When the camera stopped flashing, his father left him standing there along side the shiny blue bike that he never did learn to ride. He wondered as he laid there whatever happened to it. It just disappeared, most likely sent back to the store or put out with the trash.

That was before. Before the Academy and space and Cain. When he was Ethan, not Abel. When his father still chucked him under his chin and lifted him up high to hold him in his arms as the cameras clicked away. When his father gruffly demanded through his clenched teeth "smile Ethan, act like you are grateful" and he did what he was told. Like his mother, and his sister, Ethan always did what he was told. Until he didn't and then his father turned his back on him that last Christmas and pretended like he didn't exist. Then, suddenly, he couldn't stop crying. He looked at Cain in the fear of waking him and quickly wiped away where his tears had pooled on Cain's chest without his realizing it. Cain only rolled to his side as Abel drew away trying to get a hold of himself. He missed his mother, like a little child not a grown ass Navigator, paired with the best Fighter and doing his best to keep up. He reached down on the floor by the bed to find his pants and feel around in the pocket until his fingers touched it and he drew it out.

His mother had given him, that last Christmas morning, her great, great grandfather's pocket watch. It didn't run any longer, springs long past broken, the metal worn away and the glass cracked. His mother gave it to him she said to remind him where he came from. It was this ancestor who had fingered the metal away, keeping it in his pocket until the day he died. Ethan's mother said she didn't know what her great, great grandfather did but knew it had something to do with space, either writing about it, or working on the computers of the age to send awkward and bulky ships out into it. He never went, she explained but he wanted to. The family stories were always clear about that, he believed that people would one day live in space. As it turned out he was right, even though it was nothing like what he thought. Instead of utopia it was simply another project for the undesirable. That's where Cain was born and raised. That's where his lover came from. The cesspool of the barely human, the colonies.

"What is that?" Abel dropped the watch on the bed startled that Cain was awake and sitting up watching him. He reached for it but Cain got there first. "Not so fast princess, what are you hiding? Tch, what is this?"

"Nothing, a watch, its old, my mother gave it to me." Abel breathed out, afraid of what would come next.

"Doesn't work?"

"No. Hasn't in generations." Cain snorted and threw it back to him. "Typical rich boy bullshit then, keeping something useless."

Abel turned away, startled at the tears he couldn't stop. Oh god, this was the last thing he wanted to expose to Cain, he'd never live it down. But he couldn't stop, and before he knew it, he was hunched over the side of the mattress, his hands covering his face and choking on his sobs. The more he tried to control himself, the more violent his chest heaved and he coughed and sobbed, all the pain of the last year just rolling out of him. His chest hurt, his throat was raw and he thought he would vomit out of fear, not knowing how Cain was going to punish him for this weakness. His father was right; he was nothing but a spoiled faggot brat who was useless for anything. He wasn't good enough for the Reliant, and he certainly wasn't good enough for Cain and he missed his mother. It was Christmas morning, and he missed his mother.

When he couldn't catch his breath, Cain bent him over, his head between his knees and held him there.

"Slow the fuck down." Then he did have to puke, and broke away to try to make it to the toilet. Everything came up, dinner the night before, Cain's cum, all the swallowed snot and then nothing. His stomach spasmed with nothing left to throw up until he cried for just the sheer pain of it. He barely noticed the hand reaching over him to flush the toilet, and then the cool rag at the back of his neck. Grateful that nothing else was said, he worked on calming his breathing until there was just a little hic in his voice. He let strong arms pull him back and then wipe his face and neck with coolness. When Cain picked him up and cradled him in his arms like a child, Abel hung on for dear life and let Cain lay him back down in their bed. More coolness across his eyes and he just sank into the safety of their little bed and let his exhaustion take him.

Cain was gone when he woke up. Abel wasn't surprised, but he felt like he would cry again if Cain came back pissed at him for being a whining pathetic baby. Too late now, there wasn't anything he could do, he had already exposed his throat to Cain, if Cain was going to use it to demean and degrade him, it was too late. Abel looked up at the ceiling of the little closet laughingly made into their quarters, and sighed out his hopeless feelings of having once again messed everything up. He sat up when the door slid open, Cain shucking off his jacket as he entered the room.

"You still fucked up?"

"No."

"Good."

Cain threw himself back on the mattress along side of Abel and covered his eyes against the light. Abel could smell cigarettes, vodka and sour sweat on him. He curled up against Cain's side and laid his head on Cain's stomach, and relaxed into him as Cain laid his calloused hand on the back of his neck, fingering his hair. It was a few minutes before Abel realized Cain was sleeping, and he shifted to put his arm around Cain's waist and slept himself.

Ethan didn't know where he was when he woke up. He thought it was still dark, and the house was so quiet, like it was on Christmas morning because half the staff was gone and so were the guests and reporters from the Christmas Eve party that lasted long into the night way past when Ethan and his sister had been dismissed to their rooms. It took a moment to realize that the stifling little room was not his bedroom and the whistling from the shower was not some ancient crooner on the house media system singing Christmas carols.

But it was Silent Night all the same, the whistle pure and on pitch. Carrying over the rush of the shower, and in a language Abel had only heard in curses, "Tykha nich, svyata nich ..." came clearly sung from the tiny room. Abel listened to hear it all; his heart pounding, fearing Cain would sense him outside the door and stop singing. He didn't want it to stop; he wanted to hear all of it and remember it forever. All too soon the shower stopped, the song fell to a hum and Abel scooted back to the bed and feigned sleep. As the door slid open, he could sense Cain moving quietly around him, pulling on his clothes.

"Leaving?"

"Got call. Not like you pansy navies, we don't get holiday passes."

"Oh. See you later then?"

Cain was out the door then, barely acknowledging Abel lying still naked in their little bed. "Tch, dunno." Then he was gone. Merry fucking Christmas, Abel thought falling back on the thin pillow. Fuck.

Abel forced himself to shower and go down to the mess for coffee and then headed over to Central to work on some configurations to keep his mind off how he had fucked things up. All day long images of home and what he would be doing there with his family kept filtering into the calculations in his head and he would find himself staring into space, daydreaming. When it came right down to it, Christmas was a painful memory of not living up to his father's expectations and proving to his father on a yearly basis just how worthless Ethan was. He wasn't good enough and he wasn't ever going to be good enough in his father eyes. Christmas was just another disappointment for his father to rack up and use again him to keep him in line.

And now, there would never be another Christmas with Mom and Dad and Sis for the reporters and those who owed his father favors. Now he was a faggot navigator having thrown away his expensive education and future on a tin bucket with a madman about to tangle with the 'Terons who would probably end his short miserable life. Abel's daydream ended violently as the Reliant was blown apart and the last words out of Cain's mouth were "You useless fucking pansy...!" He closed his computer and pushed himself away from the work station.

It was only then that he noticed he was alone in the room. Even Keehler was gone, probably enjoying Christmas with Encke. Abel pushed away perverted thoughts of Encke with little fine boned Keehler, not really wanting to know what happened behind their closed door. It was late, past dinner; he had worked all day without noticing how the time got away from him. Standing and stretching he contemplated the mess hall for something to ease his rumbling stomach but then decided that if Cain was looking for him, he'd be better off just showing up in their quarters. At least Christmas was almost over and other than some bad memories; he managed to get through it.

On his way back he picked up his mail, mostly junk from the Academy. There in the pile was a letter in his mother's fine handwriting. His name had been blacked out and ABEL/RELIANT stamped across it. He opened it up and it was a Christmas card, something with snow and a forest all lit up like Christmas tree's. Inside it just said "Merry Christmas, son, I love you." Mom. Tears welled up in his eyes again and he brought it to his nose to smell her perfume. He always would remember his mother by her perfume. Instead of crying again, he smiled and put the little card back in its envelope and slipped it into his jacket pocket. He started back to his quarters and started humming under his breath "Silent Night, Holy Night..."

Abel took a deep breath at his door before hitting the panel next to it. When it gently slid open, he was disoriented. He paused a moment to look around the outside to make sure he was at the right door. Inside the tiny cabin was lit with little lights, and sitting on their little chest was a couple of cups and a tiny bottle of something. The room was filled with smoke; Cain was sitting cross-legged on the bed, chain-smoking by the look of the ashtray.

"Where in holy fuck have you been?" Cain demanded angrily. Abel just looked at him and looked at the little chest and then looked at the lights around him, dumb with shock. He lost his footing and tumbled into the little bed when Cain reached up and took his arm to yank him down beside him.

"What is this?" Abel squeaked out, suddenly terrified of Cain being angry at him again. Cain cocked his head at Abel and then grabbed the back of his head and brought Abel's lips to his and gave Abel a kiss so gentle that it took his breath away. "It's Christmas, Merry Christmas princess." Abel's eyes grew wide as Cain dropped a small wrapped package in his lap. He was frozen only able to chew his lip staring at the tiny package wrapped in some sort of foil.

"What's this?"

"Open it."

"But...but I don't have anything for you." Abel turned in Cain's arms and buried his face in Cain's chest.

"How bout you don't cry again, that would be a fucking great gift, princess." Abel sucked his breath back in and held it, trying to control the flood about to give loose. He breathed a couple of deep breaths and Cain held the back of his head against him.

"Come on, open it up, I want to drink that booze."

"Where did you get that? Is that champagne?" Cain just shook his head "Something like that, tch, don't ask." Abel swallowed, took a deep breath and unwrapped the small package.

Abel wasn't sure about what he was looking at. He knew it was the pocket watch but it was shiny and the hands were moving. Cain's hand covered his and brought his hand holding the watch to his ear.

"Shhh, listen." In the silence of the room, he clearly heard ticking; the ancient watch was ticking once again as the mechanism moved. His jaw dropped as he looked in awe from the watch to Cain's face.

"How? How? My god, Cain...I..." he licked his lips and stopped because he knew that it would only be seconds before he could not control the tears already threatening at the corners of his eyes. Cain brought Abel's hand holding the watch up to his own ear and listened and then with a smile on his face he kissed Abel's fingers.

"I don't know how long it will last, and I couldn't fix the glass on this bucket, but when we get home, I will."

"Home?"

"You said we would make it home, princess, I'm holding you to that." Abel looked him full in the face for a long thoughtful moment and then handed him the small bottle. "Here, open this," he said as he held the cups for Cain. When the bottle was empty, Abel touched his cup to Cain's, "Merry Christmas Cain, I can't think of a better Christmas that I've ever had."

Cain smiled and clinked his cup to Abel's before throwing back the cheap booze. Then he took Abel's cup, put both cups down and pushed Abel flat, laying over him, teeth on his neck. "If we hurry, we can get in a Christmas fuck before it's over." Abel wrapped his legs around his lover's waist, "Merry, Merry Christmas," he murmured before his mouth was filled with Cain's tongue and they made a Christmas memory of their own.


End file.
